Blood Ties: Lyonna
by AmeliaWolf
Summary: My very first fanfic. I love the Dragon Age series so it seemed only fitting I start here. There are tonnes of in-game fanfics here, many of which I have read and enjoyed but this is not one of those. Blood Ties was originally written in an attempt to give Alistair a sister who would actually love him unlike that nug-humping hag Goldanna. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to R&R :)
1. Prologue: The Other Sister

_**AN:**_

_**This story is one I uploaded a long time ago, and then it got lost and I just couldn't find it within me to continue it. But now we're back and I'm almost done with it so updates should come thick and fast! This is an OC story with cameos from original characters that may eventually expand further. Thanks for giving Lyonna a chance!**_

_**XoX**_

Prologue: The Other Sister

It was nearly the end of first watch; it had been an altogether quiet affair. The only sounds to be heard throughout camp were the merry crackle of the camp fire, the mabari's occasional whine, and Alistair's annoying pacing. Elissa was sat by the fire, working to repair her torn shirt and trying her best to ignore him. Standing watch with him was a rare event, since they were the only wardens in all of Ferelden and therefore the only ones able to sense darkspawn. She'd arranged this watch specifically to give him the opportunity to approach her with whatever was bothering him. He'd worn her patience this last few days; they couldn't afford him to have only half his mind on the job. If he didn't come out with it soon she was going to beat it out of him. She watched, out of the corner of her ice blue eyes, as he made to approach her only to turn around again.

"Maker's Breath, Alistair!" She huffed, throwing her shirt to the ground and flicking her ebony hair over her shoulder, "what's wrong?!"

He turned giving her his 'guilty school-boy' look and fixing his hazel eyes to the ground, "I... Have I told you how beautiful you are recently?"

"Yes." She smiled, "Now out with it."

He paused and ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair, "Well, do you remember my half-sister, Goldanna?"

"Oh, you mean the charming, red-headed, gold-digger in Denerim? Yes Alistair, I remember her... Wait you don't want to go back there, do you? 'Cause honestly, if you want to be shouted at and insulted that much you could always go share Morrigan's fire for a while..."

"No no, nothing like that, 'Liss." He replied with a nervous chuckle, "You see the truth is... Uh... She may not be my only relative..."

Elissa raised one long eyebrow at him as he sat beside her. Family was a big thing to Alistair, having never actually had one of his own. It was very strange of him to keep something like this from her. Her memory stubbornly dredged up the fact that he hadn't told her about is lineage in the first place until he absolutely had to.

'That's different' she told herself, 'He's still the only one who knows a Cousland survived...'

She sighed, "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Well, at first it was easier and much more likely we'd find Goldanna... Since I knew her name and where she lived... So I just thought we'd try her first... Then with the way she reacted, I just thought that... Well, I guess I was scared that..."

"Goldanna was a bitter shrew of a woman, Alistair." Elissa sighed gently, resting her head on his shoulder, "If this other relative is anything like you I'm sure they'll be delighted to have found you. Tell me what you know."

"Well I only know her name really. She's a few years younger than us so she'd be around sixteen. Oh, and I know she's a half-blood, her mother was an elven servant at the castle."

Elissa bit her lip, "so, we're looking for a young, female half-blood of noble descent..."

Elissa felt her mind start to work as she tried to gauge the best way of finding the girl. Zevran had once told her that the Antivan Crows purchased elves to be moulded into assassins because humans view elves as beautiful. As a noble, she knew this to be true. There had always been court gossip circling about some nobleman or woman bedding an elven servant. Still, half-bloods were notoriously difficult to carry to term, especially if the mother was elven. So she shouldn't be difficult to find and having Theirin blood should make it easier still.

"Her name, Alistair?" Elissa asked finally, drawing her companion out of his thoughts, "you didn't tell me her name?"

"Lyonna." He murmured with a smile, "Her name's Lyonna Surana."


	2. Chapter One: Eighteen

_**AN:**_

_**So, a few little points I forgot to make earlier… I don't have a Beta so if there are any spelling or grammatical errors let me know and I'll fix it straight away! Also, when this was first drafted a long, long time ago there wasn't even a mention of half-blood elves so I went with the usual human with elven features design. Then it turned out that half-bloods in Thedas just appear as normal humans and well, I like Ly better this way so it's stuck. If you don't like it and prefer to stick with Bioware's way just ignore it, it really doesn't affect the story at all. I mean it's barely mentioned a handful of times. Thank you for giving Lyonna a chance!**_

_**XoX**_

Chapter One: Eighteen

_Two Years Later..._

Denerim had recovered quickly after the Final Battle and slaying of the Archdemon. It was once again the busy, bustling Jewel of Ferelden. Home to both nobility and commoner, King and cut-throat. The Market Place was busier than ever. Not only drawing people with its colourful marquees, and range of stalls and businesses, but with its incredible view of Fort Drakon where the Archdemon fell and was finally slain. This of course led to a steep rise in criminal activity and likewise the number of patrolling guards. All this flew past her in a blur.

Being chased by a trained mabari was an adrenaline rush she tried to avoid. The massive barrel-chested menace growled threateningly, its dark beady eyes trained on her and its short tan fur bristled. She sprinted down another back alley and turned the corner, still trying to secure the leather purse to her belt. Seconds later there was a crash behind her, letting her know the mabari had followed. She sighed to herself, using a mabari was cheating it was much easier to outwit a guard. A bang of blonde hair escaped her braid and whipped her in the face as she rounded another corner. She tucked it behind her slightly pointed ear, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in her side. Finally, the building she'd been aiming for came into view. She almost cried out in joy.

'You better be there, Tabris.' She growled to herself as she forced herself into a harder sprint.

She leapt at the building. Her fingers found less purchase than she'd anticipated and she found herself scrambling to get out of the mabari's reach. A slender hand appeared above her and grabbed her wrist, hauling her up onto the roof moments before the mabari could dig its teeth into her flesh. She fell on her back, her eyes closed and laughed. She'd made it. Her legs ached and her lungs burned but she was there, unscathed.

"I don't know what's so funny, Ly." A male voice scolded, "that was a completely unnecessary risk."

"It was completely necessary Elyon," She whispered, "now hush, the guards will be..."

"You lost 'em. Again." A gruff voice below them growled.

"I don't understand it, Sir." Another voice bumbled, "I had a trap set, the mabari ready..."

"And surprisingly, they managed to disarm your trap, outwit your _trained _mabari and get away with our gold! That coin will be coming out of your pay check."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now get back to your post."

She waited for the footsteps to fade before opening her eyes and smiling at Elyon.

He was still glaring at her. His mousy brown hair swept back and his azure eyes scrunched in an almost child-like way.

"Did you hear that? Gold!" She laughed, still trying to catch her breath, "I told you I could make it."

"That mabari couldn't have been five seconds from chewing your feet off." He replied curtly, helping her to her feet.

"Well then, I guess it's a good thing you were on time. For once."

He smiled, "Yes, I guess it was. Honestly, you're late one time and you're never allowed to forget it..."

"They arrested me!"

"Well, in all fairness you did break a_ lot_ of laws."

"None worth sending me to jail over."

"If you say so... Let's see it then, sister, this prize worth becoming a mabari's chew toy over. Do we eat tonight?"

She smiled at that, 'sister'. All the family she knew she had been long dead. Yet no one had felt any more like 'family' than him. Elyon's entire family had been butchered during a burglary of his childhood home, and he'd been outcast from the alienage community. So after she'd protected him from a group of thugs she'd sort of adopted him. She untied the pouch with deft fingers and threw it to him.

"See for yourself."

He pulled the drawstring and dumped the contents into her hands. His eyes grew as he chuckled, "by the Maker..."

"It would seem, dear brother..." She said with a smirk, "that we will be eating for a good few nights to come."

_Home_. It was a simple word, but one that had never had any meaning to her. She had once been told that home was different things to different people, but to her it meant nothing. She had never felt 'at home' anywhere, although the little two room shack she shared with Elyon in the slums of Denerim was probably as close as she'd get. She supposed really she couldn't complain, compared to most in her situation she had in fact done alright for herself.

She was an orphan. She was the bastard child of some good-for-nothing noble who had bedded her mother and then disappeared. Her mother had been an elven serving girl and couldn't have been much older than Lyonna herself when she had died during child-birth. Lyonna had always been an outcast, shunned by humans and elves alike because of her 'impure' blood and questionable heritage. She'd been brought up and educated at the Chantry in Redcliffe until she was ten at which point she was shipped off to Denerim to live with a child-less family. When her new 'mother' died of consumption less than a year later her 'father' had become a drunk and she found herself on the streets. It was here she'd had to learn the skills of city survival, picking locks and pockets as well as mastering the art of persuasion. At fifteen, she was taken in by an elderly beggar woman who offered her a safe place to sleep in exchange for a share of the coin she made. The old woman had soon passed away and left her the little shack.

She frowned to herself, as she heated the leftover rabbit stew. She was like a bad penny or a black cat, death and destruction seemed to follow in her wake. She felt cursed. The slamming of the door wrenched her out of her morose thoughts and Elyon grinned at her, dumping everything he carried onto the table. Something itched at the back of her mind; there was something she'd forgotten. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He looked very much like the cat that ate the canary, and was carrying an awful lot considering he'd only gone out for bread.

"Happy Birthday, Ly." He grinned, presenting her with a cloth-bound package. She smiled as she threw her arms around him; you knew things were hectic when you forgot your own birth date.

"Elyon! You... you shouldn't have..."

"Yes, I should." He replied, squeezing her, "It's your birthday, you should enjoy it."

He sat her down at the table and pawed through the rest of the things, "I've managed to get us a bottle of wine, and some cheese, and... some honey cake. You're eighteen, Ly, we should celebrate. You deserve it."

She did her best to frown at him, "did you at least remember the bread?"

He grinned in reply, unwrapping a small loaf. She glanced at the present again; it was sitting on the table, taunting her.

"Can I open it?"

"Of course," He replied, sitting next to her, "just be careful."

Excitement bubbled in through her as she unwrapped the gift, giving way to shock as soon as she recognised it. It was a new, beautiful, shiny dagger. It was the dagger she'd admired almost every time she passed the weapon smith and had been saving up for forever to buy. It was the same length as from her elbow to her fingertips and perfectly balanced, it also seemed to glow very faintly.

"It's an enchanted dagger, it's made from grey iron." Elyon said, his smile failing, "What's wrong, Ly? You don't like it? I can take it back..."

"No, Maker no..." Lyonna smiled, "It's the perfect gift. I love it, it's just... we can't afford this..."

"It's for your birthday, of course we can. Besides, I've been taking a few extra jobs... You know, just to make sure..."

'Well that explains his overly-grouchy behaviour...' She thought, embracing him again, "Thank you."

The giddy atmosphere was interrupted by a heavy knock on the door causing Lyonna to freeze out of instinct.

"Go answer that," Elyon sighed, pushing her away, "I'll dish out the stew."

She peeked out of the window cautiously, before throwing the door open.

"Gerod." She smiled, greeting the young, red-headed man.

"Bonsoir, good lady." He smiled, his grey eyes crinkling in the corners, "I take it then the trouble at the market was you? That is why you have the blade, yes?"

"Trouble in the market? I have no idea what you mean. Lyonna smiled, locking the door behind him, "Elyon just gave me the blade."

Gerod chuckled in reply, "I'm sure you don't, my friend."

He put what he was carrying on the table before shrugging off his sword and shield. He was still wearing his plate uniform.

"Can I ask you a question, Gerod?" She asked as she sat back at the table.

"Go on..." He replied cautiously, sitting next to her.

"Is there a _good_ reason they make Templar's wear skirts?"

Elyon's quite, tittering laughter made her giggle.

"Since it's your birthday, I'll let you have that one." Gerod sighed, passing her a cloth-bound package, "speaking of which, I got you this."

She smiled at him as she opened the package. It contained a pair of tan, soft leather gloves wrapped in a necklace. She unwound the necklace from the gloves and traced the pendant with a finger. It was a small mirror, set into a beautiful blue-grey wood that had been carved to look as if vines of ivy were growing across its surface. She smiled, trying not to cry as she hugged the young Templar, "Thank you."

"Here allow me." He smiled, brushing her hair out of the way and fixing the clasp, "and the gloves should replace the ones you lost. What did you say happened to those again?"

"Oh, they may have been thrown into the face of a vicious mabari."

He chuckled, "it's a good thing you're not a mage, Ly. I pity anyone who has to hunt you."

'Then it's a good thing I'm not my cousin.' She thought, somewhat bitterly. If she was her cousin, she'd have died when the Circle fell.

"Did you bring the wine?" Elyon asked, saving her again. Mentally she thanked him as she emptied the bottle he'd bought into three glasses.

"Of course," Gerod replied, gesturing at the two bottle-shaped packages, "You two are becoming a rather bad influence on me."

There was something to be said for drinking on an almost empty stomach. Intoxication happened far quicker, and was far stronger than it should be. The rest of her night passed in a colourful blur. She remembered laughing though. They had laughed a lot, and sang and danced. As the night drew to an end and she helped Gerod into his bedroll she had an unwelcome sobering moment. A strange, sinking feeling engulfed her and she embraced them both.

"I love you, guys." She murmured quietly. She couldn't explain it but she knew this chapter of her life was closing. She stood on the precipice of change, staring blankly into the unknown. It was a change she was scared of, a change she wasn't sure she would like, but a change she knew she could do nothing to stop.


	3. Chapter Two: The Hunt

_**AN:**_

_**I haven't got much to say really. Lyonna and I just wanted to thank you for reading her story :)**_

_**XoX**_

Chapter Two: The Hunt

Baelthar pressed his head into his mistress' thigh as they headed for the Chantry. They had found the wolf as a cub nestled into his mother's corpse and whining pitifully. She'd bonded with the cub and he soon became her faithful shadow. She had taken to camping out in the Wild's more so she could keep him close, the wolf hated the city but he hated being away from her even more. He'd grown spectacularly over the following moons and now reached her hip when on all fours. Even the mabari were stilled by his approach. She scratched the top of his black head and he settled. Elyon raised an eyebrow, he was still unsure of her newest adoptee.

The money they had made stretched further than they'd thought, especially with her spending more time hunting the forests, but had inevitably run out two weeks ago. Since then they'd made barely enough to scrape together for a loaf of bread. So they were heading out on a proper hunting trip. Baelthar whined again as they entered the Chantry grounds. For as much as he hated the City, he despised the Chantry and the Templar's who protected it. She tried to hush him as her eyes scanned for Gerod, he was in the midst of what seemed to be a heated discussion with two other Templar initiates but waved them over when he noticed them. Baelthar's hackles rose and he growled warningly as her young friend made to approach her.

"You're still dragging that mangy mutt around with you?" He asked, glaring at the wolf.

"He's not mangy." Elyon smirked. The wolf's intense hatred of the Templar seemed to amuse him.

"Easy, Baelthar." Lyonna soothed, stroking his head. Baelthar's growl turned into a low rumble as he eyed Gerod warningly.

"He makes for a good companion actually," She replied with a small teasing smile, "and he's made more use of himself than either of you."

"What was that about?" Elyon asked, nodding to the two other Templar initiates.

"Oh, I've just had some good news." Gerod's smile faltered as he appraised them both, "Wait, you're going hunting aren't you?"

"Yes." Lyonna sighed, "Apparently coin doesn't grow on trees."

"Well, how long will you be gone for?"

"We don't know. A couple of days, maybe. We need to stock our cupboard. Why?"

"A message bird arrived this morning. A group of Templar's will be arriving in a few days time. They've requested seven days board here so they can rest and recuperate before they continue on to Lake Calenhad..."

"Yeah so the Tin Soldiers are bringing back an escapee." Elyon sighed impatiently, "They do that all the time."

"Commander Lyson has said I'm ready for the next stage in my training. He's going to request that the Templar's take me with them. He's given me a written recommendation and everything."

"You're leaving?" Lyonna couldn't help the hurt that tinged her voice. Baelthar growled at the change in her tone, she felt somehow betrayed.

"It was going to happen eventually, Ly." He said almost in pleading, "If I miss this opportunity Maker knows how long I'll have to wait."

She hugged him wordlessly, struggling to keep one hand on Baelthar.

"They'll take you, Gerod." She sighed, "Everyone knows how talented you are."

"Thanks, Ly."

"You better still be here when we get back." She warned, releasing him, "We should at least celebrate."

He nodded his agreement and she smiled sadly. He was leaving her. Another person she cared about was as good as gone. Part of her knew losing him would be like losing part of her family. Another part was glad he was leaving, glad he'd be out of the reach of the Darkness that shadowed her. Elyon put his arms around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze as soon as they were out of sight of the Chantry, "He'll be fine, Ly."

"I know." She murmured, trying to hide her tears.

She'd been wrong. The Wilds was the closest place she felt to home. She didn't know if it was her elven blood or her nature but she loved the freedom the forest provided her. She loved being able to be herself, not having to wear one of her many disguises. She adored the hunt itself, tracking and stalking before sending an arrow whistling through the air at her target. She'd spent a lot of time honing Baelthar's hunting skills by just shadowing animals, sometimes for days on end, and seeing how long it took for the 'prey' to notice. She found herself thanking the forest for every kill, it seemed somewhat respectful. The forest in turn had always treated her well.

By the second day of the hunt they'd felled a boar and a few rabbits and were close on the tracks of another. Baelthar was in his element, his black fur made him as good as invisible and he moved with the silent grace of a shadow. They made camp early that night, enjoying a little of the roasted meat and bread before leaving the rest of the boar to smoke.

"So, Gerod's moving on..." Elyon started, using the opportunity to feed the fire.

"So it would seem." Lyonna replied, running her hand through Baelthar's soft coat.

"How are you?" He prodded. She knew what he meant by the question.

"You and Gerod are my family, my only family..." Baelthar whined and licked her hand, "Okay, you, Gerod and Baelthar are my only family. Losing any of you only serves as a reminder of what I've already lost, that I don't actually have a family of my own."

"You're the only family I have too, you know." He murmured.

She nodded, of course she knew that. Elyon was born a City Elf, raised in Denerim's alienage. Both his parents had worked at a noble's estate, as such he had little knowledge of his true heritage and Dalish ancestors. One day, driven by necessity and lack of space, his whole family had moved into a shack just outside the alienage. The move would prove to be a mistake and had, unfortunately and rather unavoidably, cut them off from everyone. The elves no longer accepted them and the humans saw themselves as above them. So when his family home was turned into a bloodbath he had no one to turn to. Like so many other city kids he found himself abandoned and unable to fend for himself.

"You okay?" Elyon asked at her sudden silence.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She muttered with a yawn, "I'm just r_eally_ tired. Let's get up early tomorrow and catch that boar so we can head home."

"You know you'll always have me, don't you Ly?"

She smiled at him sleepily and cuddled against him, "_you'd_ have a hard time getting rid of me. I'm afraid you might be stuck with me."

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, "well that's good to know. Good night, Ly."

"Good night, Els."

The following day they'd been forced to kill a wolf. Lyonna had tried to avoid the animal as much as possible but it was wounded, and had resorted to stealing from their camp. She'd been in the nearby stream washing and when she came back she found Elyon with the old beast in a standoff. She'd just had time to knock an arrow before it launched itself at him. Luckily, her arrow flew true and the wolf was already dead by the time it hit the elf. Elyon was both annoyed and relieved when she told him she'd been trying to keep them clear of the beast and had even resorted to laying traps.

"Can we eat it?" He asked.

She wrinkled her nose, "Have you ever tried wolf meat? It's foul. We could however use its coat, I'll skin it and we'll leave the corpse for the forest."

He frowned but didn't argue, accepting her advice as the more knowledgeable of the pair, "What will you use the pelt for?"

"We could always sell it back at Denerim." She shrugged, "Armour smiths and tailors are always buying pelts, or I suppose we could use it as a blanket or I could make it into a cloak."

He nodded, taking on everything she told him. This was still something he was inexperienced at. Having refused on many occasions when she'd offered to bring him hunting with her. 'Preferred the stone of the city' he'd said. She rolled her eyes at the memory, she sometimes wondered if he was actually elven at all. She fancied he followed a shorter, stouter and hairier race.

It was their fifth day in the Wilds by the time they'd hunted and preserved enough meat to take back with them. That was without the herbs, roots and mushrooms they'd also picked up on their way. They reached the top of the hill and suddenly Denerim was on the horizon. Baelthar's mood soured as soon as he realised his mistress meant to lead him back to the City.

"Home sweet home." Elyon sighed.

"It's okay, boy." Lyonna murmured stroking the wolf's flank, "we'll be back out here before you know it." She had the feeling the wolf didn't believe her. As she got up a small, slow moving black splodge caught her eye.

"What's that?" She asked, thinking aloud.

"I don't know, Ly." Elyon pleaded, "Please, can we just go home?"

She smiled but ignored him as she cut across the open ground cautiously, her loyal wolf at her side.

They'd gotten quite close before she realised they were stalking the group of Templar's Gerod had mentioned and their prize apostate. They walked two in front, two behind with the poorly-dressed mage in the middle. She was somewhat disappointed that they'd gotten this close without being detected. It was no wonder so many mage's escaped. Baelthar's growl was getting steadily louder as they approached the group. She knotted her hand in his fur and gave it a gentle tug, a silent command for him to be quiet. Elyon gave her another, 'Can we just please go' look, which she also ignored. He couldn't disagree that the journey back would be safer if they travelled with a Templar escort, not with the recent amount of bandit activity on the roads. She untied the leather strip holding her plait in place and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, getting ready to put on her 'innocent airhead' disguise.

"Excuse me," She said sweetly, battering her hazel eyes at the group, "Would you mind if we travel with you?"


	4. Chapter Three: Apostate

_**AN:**_

_**Sometimes, I wonder if I think a touch too badly of Templars… Thank you for reading, it honestly means the world to me. Don't forget to let me know what you think!**_

_**XoX**_

Chapter Three: Apostate

The company of Templar's, plus mage, stopped as one of the Templar's sized her up. She smiled at him, biting the corner of her lip. She was confident he'd let her travel with them. Being half-elf seemed to make her somewhat more attractive to men. It meant her eyes were softer and rounder, her features finer and more delicate and though she had a woman's curves her elven blood made her far more slender than human women.

"I'm sorry. We're accompanying a dangerous apostate back to the circle. You and your husband will have to go on your own."

"Oh this isn't my husband; he's one of my father servants." She giggled, noting the increased appreciation in the Templar's eyes, "My, that does sound _dangerous_, the Maker must be truly proud. But you're all _big_, _strong_ men. I'm sure you're more than a match for this apostate, and with all the bandits on the road recently I fear I present an _easy_ target."

This was the first time that she'd really looked at the apostate and though she forced herself to look back at the Templar, her mind was in a whirl. He was tall, not as imposing as the beefy Templars around him, but still somewhat muscular. He had a head of thick raven black hair, and emerald green eyes that sparkled with intelligence and burned with something that had stuttered her heart. She could still feel his gaze on her and she felt her cheeks flush. She tried to concentrate on the Templar's words, "... Just don't get in our way."

"Of course we won't, Ser." She beamed her appreciation at the Templar, "We'll just follow along. Thank you, Ser, for your kind generosity. The Maker has truly smiled upon us this day."

The Templar was definitely proud of himself, puffing up like a stuffed pigeon. She laid her gratitude on thick, touching his arm and blushing with a sudden giggle. Elyon was more than unimpressed, but he wouldn't dare openly challenge her, not with the picture she'd painted for them and so had resorted to silent glaring. She gave him a look back and kept her hand knotted in Baelthar's fur, she was sure there'd be a blood bath if she let him go. They fell into pace with the Templar's, they seemed to travel at an easier, more relaxed pace than she was used to. These Templar's also seemed much different to the uptight buffoons that she'd met in Denerim. They were strangely tranquil and comfortable, even with the mage's presence, they were much surer of themselves. Lyonna made a quick mental note; these men were dangerous.

They hadn't long set up camp when one of the Templars, Randal she believed, seemed to remember their existence.

"We don't have enough food to share with you I'm afraid. Truth be told we haven't got enough to get ourselves to Denerim."

"Oh, that's okay." Lyonna smiled nodding to Elyon, "We have some rabbit. I'm sure it'll be enough to make us all a nice stew."

Randal seemed somewhat offended, "Oh... no... I mean, we couldn't..."

"No, I insist." She smiled, "It's the least we can do to show our gratitude."

Randal nodded then with a quick smile before he carried on fiddling with his tent. Lyonna gave a mental snort, people would believe anything you say as long as it's some sort of compliment. Baelthar's hackles were still raised as he glared from one Templar to the next; he wasn't helping the image she was trying to paint. She smoothed his fur until he looked up at her with his amber eyes, "I need some more rabbit, do you think you could hunt some?"

He rose, stretching before licking her cheek in reply.

"Good boy." She murmured, kissing his muzzle, "Go on then, but don't be gone for too long."

He licked her cheek once more before disappearing into the shadows. She suddenly felt very lonely. Elyon was doing his best to fulfil the only role she could think to give him that the Templars would have accepted and so remained distant and silent and now she'd had to send Baelthar away. The prickling sensation was back in the recesses of her mind haunting her with its inevitable omen, _'Change is coming.'_

The mage had been sat in the middle of the camp so the Templars could keep an eye on him as they went about their various duties. He'd been placed close enough to the fire to be illuminated at all times, but far enough that he wouldn't benefit from its warmth. She had to admit by fire light he looked awful. He was deathly pale, which highlighted a number of painful bruises up his arms and across his face and he had black circles under his eyes. He'd caught her glancing at him a few times, and stared back at her with the same haunting look until she was forced to look elsewhere. His robes didn't seem to be as poor as she'd first thought, instead they looked to have once been quite fine, but were ripped and shredded in a number of places and were beyond repair. She shuddered at the thought of what could have caused that much damage.

"How's it coming?" Randal asked, again, bringing her attention back to the stew. The Templar was exhausting her nerves at an alarming rate and she was finding it much more difficult to bite back the sarcastic comments on the tip of her tongue.

"It won't be much longer." She replied with a strained smile. He hadn't left her alone all evening. Elyon hadn't helped, he just kept staring at her blankly and saying 'yes, milady', she was going to kill him when they got back. She was also let down to note he didn't pay Baelthar any particular notice, as if he was just another mutt pet which was exactly what she'd told them. _She _had created this. She stroked the wolf's fur as she stirred. It helped calm her more than it did him; he'd yet to stop his low growl.

"It could use some seasoning, actually." She muttered in feign annoyance.

"Oh, I think Jasper has some herbs... I'll go ask him." Randal said, bowing his head before leaving. She watched him wander off before she let her fake smile fall. She rubbed her hand across her cheek before burying her head into Baelthar's fur, her cheeks ached.

"Andraste's flaming knickers..." She muttered into the wolf's fur when she was sure no Templar would hear her. A pleasant chuckle roused her from her brooding thoughts and she looked up. The mage was laughing.

"I didn't think anyone would hear that..." She sighed, chagrined. Maybe she wasn't as quiet as she thought.

"Oh, I've said worse, believe me." The mage replied, "They have that effect on people."

She inched closer to him and dropped her voice, "Maker forgive me, they are the most annoying people I've ever met... I don't know how you mage's cope."

"Some of us don't." He muttered. The sudden darkness in his voice and features chilled her. Of course, she had heard some hushed rumours that some Templar's abused their charges but she'd always put it down to malicious gossip, her only true Templar to base the rumours on being Gerod. She wondered if he would ever fall so far.

"Here, what do you think?" She sighed, passing him the spoon.

He took it with a strange smile, "You know they haven't fed me since they caught me. They're scared I may regain my 'apostate strength' and escape. They haven't worked out whether I'm a maleficar or not yet."

She blinked at him, he was testing her, "Well, I haven't been told that. All I know is I've got seven mouths and a mutt to feed. If that helps you escape then what do I know? I'm just a young lady; I have no knowledge of magic."

He weighed her against her words as he passed the spoon back to her, she'd slipped up and let him behind her façade, "It's perfect, it doesn't need seasoning."

"Thanks, I know it didn't need seasoning but I needed a bit of peace before I grabbed the pot and caved his skull in."

The mage chuckled again; it was a pleasant sound and made his green eyes sparkle.

"I'm Lyonna." She smiled, returning to the pot before any of the Templar's noticed.

"Jayden."

She allowed her thoughts to wander as she stirred and dished out the stew. Randal seemed a little deflated she hadn't used a lot of the seasoning he'd brought her so she'd apologised and touched his arm and explained that any more than a pinch would serve to ruin the flavour not bring it out. He accepted her answer, she was the woman after all, and this was seen as her domain. She passed a bowl to everyone, including Jayden, and sat between Elyon and her wolf. The Templar's seemed on edge with her feeding him, but didn't say anything to the contrary. Jayden didn't so much as glance at her as she handed him his bowl, keeping his eyes firmly trained on the floor. At first, she'd felt a bit hurt by his rebuff but then slow understanding warmed her. If he was seen to be talking to her they may assume he was casting a spell on her, it was better for both of them this way. She found herself warming to him more and more. Despite only having a brief conversation with him, she was sure he wasn't a blood mage. In fact, she wasn't really sure how dangerous he actually was. She'd grown up with the firm belief that dead was dead, be it by sword or magic. An outlook that often led to heated discussion with the Chantry Sister who'd taken on the role of her mentor, the religious sort didn't like it when you poked holes in their faith.


End file.
